


safe house singing

by delrio



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Beach Holidays, Confinement, F/F, Future Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delrio/pseuds/delrio
Summary: Adora and Catra, on a holiday, and making their way into something like engagement.+“Hey,” Catra said, and though Adora had rigidly fixed her eyes on the sky, she could hear the concern in Catra’s voice. She shifted closer, and put a hand on Adora’s shoulder.“It’s okay, Catra,” said Adora. “I know I’m here now. It was a long time ago when we lived there.”“Doesn’t stop me from having the nightmares, sometimes,” Catra said softly.Adora looked over at Catra for a moment, who was gazing at her with such care that Adora felt that she was slowly unwrapping. She thought for a moment of the tense, resigned soldier she’d been, growing up, how she could never have imagined the languid openness she was beginning to feel now. Adora’s eyes flicked down, and then she looked back up at the stars.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 94





	safe house singing

**Author's Note:**

> this fic partly inspired by me being unable to listen to mitski’s cover of let’s get married without all the water in my body gushing out my eyes ! ive never written so much so fast in my life.
> 
> i hope there’s not too much confusion with the timeline… if it’s too vague tho let me know

Time ran in circles for them. It occurred to Adora as she sat on the stairs, exhausted, but with the lightness of relief hollowing out her bones. How many times would they come back to the Horde? They’d cut off its head, long ago, but still parts of its body had twitched electric, malicious. But it was over now. Again.

Ahead of her, lit from daylight rushing in from the broken ceilings, her friends and allies cheered and chattered as the post-victory euphoria set in. It was par for the course, for them, by now; years of victories in space, of various sizes, had given them beyond sufficient practice for such a momentous day. Scorpia was being paraded around, though she was doing a lot of abashedly scratching her head: her kingdom, until now mostly occupied despite the Alliance’s previous recurring attempts, had finally been completely liberated. Adora wished she could stand – simple – walk over to them, smile and be celebratory.

Instead, she sat in a little shady corner, amongst the impersonal rubble of equipment and the walls she’d grown up with. It was almost as good just to watch them. It staved off the sour taste she had for still being here, in the now inert skeleton of the Fright Zone, even as some part of her was convinced that everyone she cared about was just the trappings of her hopeful mind, and reality was waiting for her back in a training simulation.

And then Catra was there, beside her. The constant variable through all of Adora’s lives. She put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and through the warmth of her skin Adora felt the warmth of how Catra understood dissolve through her. Adora placed her own hand on top of it. They were still for a moment, as Adora allowed herself to lean into Catra’s side.

“You know, I think this really might be the last we see of this place,” Catra said.

Though the Horde’s remaining soldiers had stubbornly refused to let go of their original stronghold, the plants that had bloomed from She-ra’s magic had burrowed their way through the entire Fright Zone irrevocably, all those years ago. They lurked in the corners now, like they were waiting for something. It gave the green of her childhood home an unfamiliar tint.

“It looks like the plants are going to take it over,” Adora said, idly. Catra squeezed her shoulder.

“I hope they do. It could use a renovation.”

Maybe time would keep going that way. Until all the tangles of the past had been combed through with a gentle hand.

* * *

Though there’d been celebration the last time a part of the Horde was defeated – Horde Prime – it had been brief; the world had still been in ruins, rehabilitation as priority. Now, it was as though everyone remembered that time past, again, and combined their inhibited relief with the finality of the Horde’s vanquishment. There were festivals – lights twinkling through the streets and even to the trees – people, street food, music, performers.

From the castle at night, Adora could still hear traces of the noise. She found that it soothed her; the background sound was something familiar she’d forgotten about, but the kindness of it honeyed into her heart where the metal sounds of the Fright Zone had ground. The noise was not so hard and unyielding as it had been.

In their bedroom, the soft sounds and light of the night, and Catra’s breath. She nestled further under Catra’s chin. Melog’s mane and tail cast a little glow over them all. It was the last thing Adora saw before she closed her eyes and slept.

* * *

Glimmer and Bow, and their other friends, threw themselves into it all. Adora mostly lost track of them throughout the day. Sometimes she would wander into the fray, under triumphant banners hanging from balconies, and catch a glimpse of them, and they were always moving – their faces or their bodies. Sometimes some of the others left to visit other cities, towns, but she and Catra stayed in Bright Moon.

Through all the uncertainties of their post-war lives, Bright Moon had stayed as their constant home. A place of comfort – and even Catra had acclimatised. Adora found her, at the very first, in various high spots on the walls of the castle. Over the years, though, she’d needed the crutch of a place like that to retreat to less and less, and Bright Moon became the safe home they’d always craved, unknowingly, as kids. They both loved the adventure, craved it as part of their lives, but there were nights in space when Catra murmured that she wished they were back at Bright Moon, and Adora knew it was beating at both of their hearts.

“Guys! There you are,” Glimmer said, bursting with sparkles into the air ahead of where Adora and Catra were meandering. They barely had time to jump before she slapped both of their shoulders and teleported them to where Bow and some of their other friends were gathered in the audience around a makeshift stage. In the rush of abrupt noise and colour Adora couldn’t parse it all immediately.

“This band is the best! You’ll love them,” Glimmer said.

“They have really positive energy!” Perfuma supplemented, revealing herself, and Scorpia let go of Perfuma’s shoulder to wrap them both up in a hug. Behind her, Adora could hear the others greeting them, too. And around them the supportive crowd swayed and talked boisterously amongst themselves, and the air they were in had a vibrancy diffused through it. All of it washed over her, registering slowly, and most of all the enduring light caught at her vision.

“It’s been too long! Where have you two been?” Scorpia said into their shoulders. Her voice came close to Adora, and clarity came over her suddenly, like a single drop of water. Melog nuzzled Scorpia’s leg, and she let them go to give them a scratch on the head.

“Ha. Scorpia, it’s been one day,” Catra laughed.

“But we missed you!” Adora added – the affection, the safe companionship, bursting dazedly out of her enough for her to be able to form words again.

Bow hugged them, too, jittering with energy. “Entrapta and I worked on the effects for these guys! We’re really hoping it pays off.”

“Aw, that’s so exciting,” Adora said, unable to stop herself bouncing sympathetically, and then the show began.

They danced together. And sung, terribly, when they caught the patterns of the lyrics. She caught glimpses, even, of Catra dancing with the others, though she’d never quiet gotten over the embarrassment of doing it in public. Entrapta had Catra wrapped in one of her mobile pigtails, and after Catra theatrically spun out of it like it was a dance partner, they caught eyes for a flash. A smile, and then she was gone again, but Adora felt an engulfing essence of fondness funnel through her like a strong wind. After the ocean-cold flashes of conflict and war that had arisen when the stubborn remnants of the Horde gathered themselves enough to begin attacking, this jubilant world was liquid and close.

* * *

_Adora ran alone._

_From far off, she could hear the practical tones of battle-commands, and the crashing ambient noise of conflict, but she couldn’t find her way back to the team she’d come in with. With all of her time passed in this establishment, she felt bitter frustration welling up within her. She didn’t know where she was going, anymore. She didn’t know which section of the Fright Zone she was in, or if it was familiar to her. And she turned a metal corner, and her luck at avoiding detection dissipated as she stopped dead in front of an extensive and armed group of soldiers._

_“For the honour of Greyskull!” she tried, but only the first shining outline of her sword materialised before she was caught in an electrified rope. With a shudder, it vanished, and she fell to the floor._

_A faint call. Someone was saying her name._

_With the force of her terror expelling her voice, she called back. “Catra! Catra,” but the soldiers condensed around her, and carried her away._

* * *

“Adora. I can never get over how much I love the fish pastries,” Catra said, dragging her exaggeratedly to a little cart with a long queue. “Why don’t people make them more often?”

“They really should,” Adora said. She raised her eyebrows. “Wow, you had to pick the shop with the longest line.”

“Uh, well, you don’t have to have any of the delicious pastry goodness if you don’t want to,” Catra said affectedly, “but I’m staying here.”

“I _guess_ I’ll stay with you,” Adora groaned, but unable to hold back the curls of a smile.

“Cause you love me.”

“So do you! Ha, ha,” Adora shot back, any wit she had evaporating in the rush the word Love still gave her, and she mussed up Catra’s hair. Catra squeaked and wobbled over, pushing at Adora.

“Watch it, I’m the one with the money!” she scoffed. A toothy grin was twisting on her face, evidently having a hard time being kept down. “And how is that even a comeback?”

They grappled with each other for a moment, before the old lady behind them tapped them on the shoulder, and in a kindly manner leaned over and asked them to move up the line. They let go of each other, blushing and apologising to her, and then moved forward, and stayed quiet for a little while.

Both of them departed from the stall holding two pastries each. They carried them, awkwardly, in one hand, and held sticky hands with the other. They didn’t say much more as they wound down the streets, counter to the flow of people; they were settled in a placid joined observation, and anyway their mouths were full.

* * *

_The Horde soldiers kept her alone, in some bunk room Adora had never been in, but nevertheless noted as recognisable. She was there for days – she curled up on a bottom bunk, close to the door, in the perpetual dark. Every time the door opened and food or water was callously thrown in, the door which subsequently eclipsed the outside world stung a bit more, and a bitter loneliness set in._

_Not consciously, but she had lightly pushed memories of the Fright Zone out of her head. But the most enduring ones – the safest – had always been at nights, with Catra, and through the days without human contact, the ground of her new life slipped out from under her, and the despairing gripping feeling she’d unconsciously lived with in this place forayed gradually in._

_Throughout, the only voices she heard were commanders bargaining with the Princess Alliance. They were using her capture – employing her existence as a bargaining chip._

_The first time she heard them proclaim that they had She-ra, and that only if territory and control was ceded to the Horde would she be released, Adora scrambled to her feet with a panic and guilt and an old lifetime of responsibility itching at her._

_“Don’t do it!” she yelled, practical and to the point, projecting her voice as far as she could. “I’m fine! Don’t give them anything!”_

_She hadn’t considered the consequences for her outburst – or if they had emerged, they stayed obediently in the back of her mind, tucked behind the concrete urge to think of the greater good. Still, after all the years, there was a newborn frustration; she could never resent anyone if they made the utilitarian decision – but being put unwillingly in a fraught situation like this pulled at her, in her new life, like it hadn’t before._

_There was a pause. And then a voice: “Don’t be stupid! Adora, we’re coming.”_

_Catra was there. And being reminded, tangibly, of her presence, conjured a startling and concentrated ache in Adora’s chest. The crackly click of the transmission being terminated came, and then so did a dense rush of footsteps, and the rush of the outside world pressing at her as the door opened. The possibility of attempting an escape didn’t occur to her until later. And as they forced her away from the door and down, gagging her with tape, trying her to a post of a bunk, she longed for Catra, singularly._

* * *

_Adora had lost track of how many days had passed when she heard unfamiliar movement trickling in from down the hall. She raised her head from where it had been drooping – and then quicker than she would have imagined, the door of her room was torn open. Catra kicked the metal square out of the way, and then charged inside, yelping Adora’s name as soon as she saw her._

_Adora didn’t know how she looked to Catra. But she felt all the fear she’d suppressed over the course of her imprisonment wash over her, and at seeing Catra she felt a certainty that she would be going home. Relief and weariness burst in her diametrically, and she felt tears dripping onto her knees before she realised that she was crying. Shh, Catra was saying, as she reached around behind her to slice off her restraints, and when her hands were free they sprung around to clutch onto Catra, irrespective of the soreness in her shoulders. Her body shook despite herself. She couldn’t conjure a stoic face. But Catra held her, and she kept holding her shoulders until she had to let go of Adora to let her slip into her Bright Moon bed._

* * *

Even outside of Bright Moon’s enduring purple, the landscape shimmered in cool tones. In the last of the orange afternoon light all of the trees and plants glowed, and Adora felt this was the truest time to see the scenery in.

After the delight and movement of the city had drained away, Adora and Catra held hands, picking their way through the shallow undergrowth. Catra shoved the last of her pastry fish into her mouth so she could use her hand to ascend a boulder; with the other she pulled Adora up behind her. Ahead of them, Melog stopped as a little animal with sparkling fur crossed their path, and they sniffed each other cordially.

“So. Where are we going?” Adora asked casually, and Catra, equally as casually, responded: “Just this place I found.”

“Oh, mysterious, huh?” Adora said, and Catra just turned to raise her eyebrows. “Okay, lead on.”

They kept going. After a while, the forest opened up, and Adora found herself on a rocky plateau, somehow hovering above the rest of the forest. She turned, and could see the castle from there, with all its lights still blossoming. The rest of the sky had been stripped of the light like a sheet, and all of a sudden Adora realised she could see the stars, wider and more open than she had seen in a long time.

“This is amazing, Catra!” she said, and when she turned to direct her smile at her, she found Catra already looking back at her, a smile on her face – it was almost smug, in the way she looked at Adora with a knowing, but it was too content and soft-edged to be teasing, and the fact that Adora knew she was the cause of it, at least mostly, meant she knew Catra couldn’t taunt her with her own sincere affection. Not for now, at least.

Adora was caught in looking at Catra for a moment, and she watched as Catra’s eyes opened with tenderness even further, and then Catra looked away to stroke Melog on the head. “Yeah, Melog found it one of those times where they go off by themselves. Couldn’t wait to show me! And they’ve been begging me to show you, too, for a while, honestly.”

“Wow.” Adora rushed over and put her arms around the both of them. “You two are so cute.”

Catra made an offended noise before she tackled Adora onto the ground. Melog leaped after them, and they ended up in a little pile.

“And deadly!” Adora amended, laughing.

“You know it,” Catra grinned, and she was sort of leaning over Adora as she lay half on her side, and behind her Adora could see the stars that Catra wanted to bring her to see. And it was quiet, and Melog’s glow was the only reason Adora could still see Catra’s face; her eyes and cheeks and nose and forehead and mouth more familiar than Adora’s own, outlined in a silvery-blue. Adora sat up on her elbows and Catra put her warm hands on Adora’s face, and Adora kissed her.

They separated just a breath, so that their foreheads still pressed together, and they warmed each other’s face with the same air.

“I thought it would be nicer out here, where it’s quiet,” Catra murmured. “You looked kind of out of it, in all the partying.”

“You were right,” Adora gave. Her elbows shook and she collapsed onto her back. Catra exclaimed, and then rolled over next to Adora, so that they were both looking at the stars. Melog curled up on both of their stomachs, purring. “The celebrations are nice. But I feel weird, after having spent so long…” She exhaled. “I don’t even know when the last time I was in the Fright Zone was. And then they trapped me there, for days. It just brought back bad feelings.”

“Hey,” Catra said, and though Adora had rigidly fixed her eyes on the sky, she could hear the concern in Catra’s voice. She wiggled closer, and put a hand on Adora’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Catra,” said Adora. “I know I’m here now. It was a long time ago when we lived there.”

“Doesn’t stop me from having the nightmares, sometimes,” Catra said softly.

Adora looked over at Catra for a moment, who was gazing at her with such care that Adora felt that she was slowly unwrapping. She thought for a moment of the tense, resigned soldier she’d been, growing up, how she could never have imagined the languid openness she was beginning to feel now. Adora’s eyes flicked down, and then she looked back up at the stars.

“They kept me in a bunk room. Not ours, but it was familiar enough. And it was just – our old room probably had some of the only good memories I have of the Fright Zone. It was one of the only places I felt safe, occasionally.”

Catra’s fingers, where they rested over Adora’s shoulder, pressed in. “Me, too.”

“But being back… It still felt bad. All of it felt bad. And now some part of me still feels stuck there.”

“If the others weren’t so set on non-violence…” Catra said, off-handedly. It sounded like a joke, but Adora could feel where the tips of Catra’s claws were digging into her skin, and when she continued her voice wavered on the brink of desperation. “It’s – What they did to you was horrible. I’m so sorry that it happened, Adora, I wish I could have saved you faster.” She stopped, for a second, gathering her voice down from where it had floated into strained whispers.

“But it’s just a place, and it’s Scorpia’s now. And knowing Scorpia, it’ll probably become one of the nicest, cushiest kingdoms out there. Okay? It doesn’t have any power over you anymore. You’re – we’re both so different from the kids we were back then. If you forget it in yourself, just look at me! I was a mess back there, but now I’m so much happier now. And I’m still changing every day. And you are, too.” As she spoke – gathering resolve and firmness as she went – Adora had turned her head to watch her as Catra rooted her gaze in the sky. And then Catra looked back her, again, and said, “Just the fact that we can be together and be honestly happy, without some hidden hurt, is testament to that.”

And Adora found that every part of her believed Catra with devotion. Adora’s arm had made its way across Catra’s waist, and Catra’s tail had looped over hers, and they faced each other. Adora pressed their foreheads together again, and then she had to close her eyes for a minute.

“I never want to feel alone like that again.”

“Neither do I. And I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that we won’t.” Over the years, though mostly with Adora, Catra had acquired an earnestness that Adora recognised as being probably influenced by her, and she saw it now. Then her face shifted into something lighter, more mischievous. “I’ve been thinking. Remember that funny little beach town from a while ago that you loved so much? We should go back there for a few days, escape the crowd. What do you say?”

Adora’s eyes lit up. “I’m in.”

“Awesome! We should leave tomorrow.”

“That’s eager,” Adora laughed, and Catra mashed a hand into Adora’s cheek, rolling her eyes. Adora felt something well up inside of her and spoke, muffled, through her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Catra replied, still, and leaned in and kissed Adora again.

* * *

They snuck out early in the morning the next day – a feat made easier by the party-induced sleep-ins all of Bright Moon had been having. They’d packed as soon as they returned to the castle the night past, hastily throwing just a few changes of clothes (Adora took each out to fold it and place it back) and essentials into a large carry bag, bickering a little over what should be considered essential, and left the next day without coming across anyone they knew personally. The single note they pinned to the door of their room was pragmatic and just said that they’d gone to Shenalia for a few days to escape the action, that they were fine and they’d be back soon.

Catra laughed as Adora stuck the note up.

“What is it?” Adora asked, wanting to join in, though she’d been grinning persistently all morning. It was just something about the thrill of not wanting to get caught; the conspiracy that she felt she and Catra, alone, were a part of. The silliness of it all.

“I keep imagining Bow and Glimmer’s reactions when they see this. They’ll be so confused. It’s hilarious.”

Adora snorted. “I wish we could be here to see it.”

“Well, we won’t, because we’ll be living it up by the sea,” Catra said, and linked her elbow in Adora’s. “Let’s go!”

They ran down the halls as fast as they could without making noise. And, maybe stupidly, every time they rounded a corner they acted like spies, giving each other the all clear before continuing, squatting and hiding theatrically, all the way until they were out of the castle.

* * *

It took them almost six hours on foot to reach Shenalia. It was only a few hours before Adora was reconsidering their plan to keep it a secret from Glimmer – she would have happily given them a lift – but Catra didn’t say anything about it, so she remained determined to get there without complaining. They left even Swift Wind out of their plans, and surprising them both, Melog wanted to stay behind with him.

“You know, I was actually considering offering to sneak back in to where you were held and helping you blow it up,” Catra said, sometime in the middle of one of their slow conversations. “Like, instead of coming here. But then I realised that might be kind of rude to Scorpia. Seeing as it’s hers now, and all.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, because I might have agreed.” And they spent the next little while discussing how they would have done it, and how exactly the structure would have blown up.

The scenery condensed from forest to shrubbery, and then the soil beneath their feet diluted into dry sandiness. They heard the sea before they saw it, and when the blue flag of it crested over the hill they were climbing, they both paused.

“Never gets old,” Catra said, and Adora hummed. She watched Catra watching the sea; she loved her little expressions of wonder.

Over the next hill was Shenalia. The little town of ramshackle wooden buildings looked as peaceful as they’d hoped it to be, and if there had been any post-Horde takedown celebrations, they had dispersed by now. The only hurdle was finding accommodation, but Adora was willing to play the She-ra card if needed be. Just for now. For them.

* * *

They found a little beachside cottage on the fringes of the town to stay in. The day was bright and the sun’s heat apparent, but a cool ribbon of air wound as an endless reprieve along the seashore. Catra opened every window and door that they had as soon as they arrived. For an hour all they did was curl up on the couch together, and watch the ocean out the window, as the white of the curtains flapped golden in the breeze. White, then blue, then white obscured the view again.

Eventually Adora wordlessly got up and lay on the sand outside. Catra joined her, after a minute, and there was the gentle breath of the water and the wind, the salt smell of the sea, and the sun laying its layers of light and warmth over them, over and over.

Adora wondered if this is what Glimmer and Bow had been wanting her to feel, on the cloudy shores of Mystacor, way back when everything had just started. She wondered at how it had taken so long; at how she had managed anyway to find herself in the life that allowed her to feel so relaxed and slackly sleepy. She closed her eyes.

* * *

Her first waking sensation was a caramel lightness seeping all through her. Her first thought was Catra: didn’t she hate water?

“Catra,” she said, springing around, but all that was beside her was a soft dimple in the sand. She put her hand over it: cool. She closed her eyes for a second, but cut them open again before she could totally sink back to the drowsy warmth. The momentary urgency faded. She stood and ambled back to the cottage; Catra wasn’t there, but she’d left a note.

 _How many notes can someone leave in two days?_ she thought to herself, and she read that Catra had just gone to town to get some food, and that she advised Adora to come back in before the tide washed her away. Adora rolled her eyes. She shrugged a light cardigan over her shoulders and shuffled her sandals on, and left to go and try to find Catra in town.

Shenalia wasn’t difficult to navigate, besides the palms that occasionally grew into a thicket and cut off her path. The shops were all scattered along or just off the main road; Adora quickly found Catra outside of one, caught in conversation with some of the locals. She hadn’t noticed Adora there yet, so Adora just watched for a minute, absently inspecting some fruit from the market she stood in front of.

Catra's hair was short and full, vanishing into a halo of light, and her eyes – always piercing – had not a softness, but a resolute kindness. She laughed casually at something, and her face crinkled a little, and she made a sarcastic joke and the others laughed in turn. A passer-by noticed Catra there and greeted her with enthusiasm; she shook their hand and they joined the circle that had gathered. Still, Adora’s eyes stayed on Catra; she had the impossible, unavoidable weight of a star, in the middle of a normal day.

“Excuse me?” a young voice piped up from next to Adora. “Would you like to buy some of those?”

Adora, startled, jumped and looked at what she was holding anew. She loved these – they both did. “Oh, uh, yeah!” she stuttered, and gathered a pile of them into her arms. “I’ll take these, please.”

When she approached Catra and the people talking to her, Catra had noticed she was coming – the firm lines of her posture yielded, and she waited for Adora with a smile on her face.

* * *

They spent the next day doing nothing much except for walking – they went from their fringe of the town to the opposite. They found a hill overlooking the sea, just outside Shenalia, and had lunch there with the fruit Adora had serendipitously bought. At night they closed all the windows and doors, and Adora felt as though she was in some cotton cocoon, a bubble of almost surreal comfort, and outside she could hear the unending rushing of the sea. Catra was pressed next to her, and the warmth she exuded and the immediate memories of the way the sun had illuminated her as she smiled at her, and how she had so comfortably taken Adora’s hand and leaned into her as she continued talking to the townspeople, and how here it was just them and all they had to do was sleep – she felt a kind of exhilaration that didn’t spin with abandon, but stayed breathing inside her. She couldn’t remember a time before Catra in her life, and in the soft moonlight where the contours of their legs and arms lay over each other, Catra with her own mind and body seemed like an extension of her heart.

* * *

They both awoke with the first of the sun. Catra was already sitting up when Adora squinted into the newly-birthed light and rolled over.

“Hey,” Catra said. She reached for one of Adora’s hands and held it between her own. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Adora said, interlacing their fingers, looking down drowsily at the lines and bones of Catra’s hands. For a moment she stayed there, then turned to open the window behind their bed. “It’s beautiful out there right now.”

“It always is,” Catra said, but kneeled beside her to look out at the fruiting sky.

“I thought you didn’t like water,” Adora said – not a question, or a discordant jab, or an attempt at teasing: just plainly, because she was concerned.

“It’s okay.” Catra shrugged, but when she saw the way Adora was looking at her, she acquiesced. “It’s grown on me. Honestly. As long as there’s no boats involved.”

“Glad to hear it,” Adora said, and ruffled Catra’s hair, because she knew she hated it. And predictably, Catra pushed her hand away and told her that she was so annoying. Still their shoulders bumped back together as though magnets, like they always did, and Catra kissed her, and Adora still felt a trace of a bursting newness in it, though she’d been living in a life where she knew they were both in love with each other for years now. I love her, thought Adora, she loves me.

When they broke apart Adora had an urge to go outside, into the world, with Catra, and when she asked if Catra wanted to go for a walk, she agreed.

* * *

The beach in the early morning was mild: the wind had reduced to a trickle, the water touched the shore like a handprint, and the sand was soft and warm. Across the sea, the sun was low in the sky, with the short stature of a small child. The sky was more open and adventurous than Adora had ever seen it.

Adora kicked sand around as she walked and asked Catra what she thought they should have for breakfast, and Catra said she didn’t care, like she always did. She was walking on the drier parts of the sand, hopping away from the occasional stronger wash of water, and Adora leaned down and splashed her, exaggerating the mundane frustration she felt at her answer. Catra impetuously splashed her back, stronger, and then ran away – when Adora caught up to her she slowed down, and they reached for each other’s hands with the reflex of someone reaching for an object about to fall.

“You know,” said Catra, after a minute, with a hesitant hum, “I’m still mad at you for the capture.”

“Wh– wait, what?” Adora said. “That was a while ago. Are you saying it was _my_ fault that I got captured?”

“No, dumb-dumb, I’m not saying it was your fault for getting kidnapped.” Catra sighed, her ears wilting, and kicked a rock ahead of her. “I’m mad that you were all but begging for us to sacrifice you. You asked _me_ to just cut our losses and not worry about you.”

“Oh. That.” Adora looked down at the water, parting and collapsing again and again over her feet as they moved. “I didn’t know you were there. I honestly didn’t think about it.”

“I _know_ you didn’t! That’s the point. Classic Adora.”

“Hey, come on, Catra,” Adora replied, stung. She was unsure if this was going to develop into something bigger; she didn’t like the bitterness she was starting to sense. She didn’t want anything between them to be ugly again, not in more than a small, fathomable way. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is!” Still, Catra pressed her free hand to her forehead and took a laboured breath, and her voice came out calmer. “Adora, I could never leave you behind, because you’re too important to me, because we _all_ care about you too much. Stop thinking of yourself as a martyr.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Adora said, “but look. I know what you mean, okay? It’s just not that easy. Especially when I was back in the physical place where all this stuff started. I’m not just going to get over it.”

Catra relented. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was telling you to get over it.” She exhaled and her tail brushed Adora’s leg. “I wish there was just a manual to read, or something, and then we’d be normal people forever.”

“I never thought _you_ would want to be normal,” teased Adora. “I don’t want you to be normal. I want you to be you.”

“Well,” Catra said, blushed endearingly in a way that made Adora feel like she was filled with bubbles. “I mean. Well-adjusted. Like Bow, or Perfuma.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve tried to punch out my problems a lot. Hasn’t worked yet.”

“Wow, really? Me, too!” Catra said with a theatrical inflection. “We must have been raised similarly.”

“Weird,” Adora said, playing along. “Where did you grow up?”

“Just this sucky place. It doesn’t really exist anymore, though.”

“You must be relieved.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Adora smiled at the way Catra’s tone dipped into true admission. But she felt that their conversation had been left unfinished, and veered towards it again. “I am sorry, though, Catra. I hate making you feel bad. And,” knowing pre-emptively what Catra and their friends would say to that, “I deserve better than to treat myself as disposable.” Still, a crust had formed immediately in her throat, and the words jaggedly hurt to push out.

Catra’s thumb stroked along the back of her hand. “You didn’t have to apologise, Adora. But the rest of it was good.”

“I… I wanted to,” Adora said. She looked at the wisps of clouds, which were glowing white. Something else had pulled at the back of her mind when they had been talking. “Catra, have you been hanging on to that this whole time?” It came out as sounding more admonishing than she’d wanted, so she corrected herself. “You don’t have to keep things to yourself… I want you to say what you feel. We could both use the practice.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Well, I wasn’t thinking about it all the time, or anything, but yes, I should have said something sooner,” Catra conceded. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I hate being angry – even just slightly upset. Especially with you. It feels like I’m going backwards.”

“Hey, I’ll tell you if you go too far, okay?”

Catra squeezed their fingers together. “Sure,” she said. “Thanks, Adora.”

“Thanks, Catra,” echoed Adora, because she felt like they’d accomplished a little of something. Gone somewhere familiar, but down a path of a junction she never hoped could exist.

“No? Thank _you_.”

“No, thank _you_ , Catra.”

“What? No. Thank _you_!”

They had reached the end of the beach, where there was only a stretch of grass and then the short craggy cliff of the headland, and together they turned back.

* * *

They spent the day strolling through the streets, and swimming – when Adora eventually convinced Catra to come into the water. They ate dinner in a pub, and laughed with some familiar locals with live music in the background. At night they watched the stars and talked inanely.

Adora rarely remembered her dreams, and always woke up with only a misty bloom of feelings in her chest; Catra had the detailed dreams, and Adora spent many mornings sprawled on her side, listening to Catra murmur the designs of them in her sleepy rasp. But that night, she felt herself clearly in a smaller body and a brighter world. Catra was with her, so young, and they swam there together.

* * *

The next morning they slept in, and when they awoke, they ate more of the fruit Adora had bought. “Why did you buy so much?” Catra asked her, finishing her second, and Adora shrugged and protested that there weren’t that many.

“There’s at least fifteen left,” Catra drawled, starting on her third.

“Well, clearly you’re not complaining,” Adora shot back, pointedly staring at the skin Catra had just discarded.

Catra shrugged and grinned, mouth full. Orange beads of flesh stuck to her hands, and Adora watched juice run freely down the skin of her arms. She huffed out an indignant breath, then went back to her book, and there was the ocean again, behind everything.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Catra said after she had washed her hands. Adora put the bookmark back in and put down her book, and they were outside again. Adora still felt the foreign glaze of tranquillity hit her: in the short green trees moving shyly, in the curve of the yellow shoreline, the foamy white tongue and blue and blue and blues of the water.

They were silent, but comfortably, as they picked their way across the tiny crests and valleys of sand. After a few minutes they paused. Adora glanced at Catra to see her looking out to the thin blue edge where the sea cut into the sky.

“Do you remember, when we were kids,” Catra began, but she was looking out to the horizon still. And she had a low distance in her voice which could have come across as nonchalance, but that Adora recognised as Catra laying aside all veneers and speaking from an entirely unguarded depth. She seemed like she’d gone somewhere else – become more like an inanimate part of the beach than a breathing person – but even there Adora knew at least the outlines of all the places that Catra possessed, to go to. “And we made a promise to each other.”

Adora considered for a beat. “I don’t know, we made a lot of promises to each other,” she admitted, but she didn’t want to sound flippant, so she supplemented: “which one?”

Catra continued in that glassy voice. “We were really little. I was crying, for whatever reason. ‘You look out for me, and I look out for you,’” she said, and caught at Adora’s hand with her own. “I think you said it, actually.”

Adora studied the horizon. “Maybe,” she supplied, eventually. “I don’t know if I remember that exact time, but I remember thinking along those lines a lot. I always just felt like we had a promise to each other.”

“We did.” Catra stretched her leg forward to wet her toes. Her tail curled, once. “I never brought it up, I guess, but I’ve always remembered it. It meant a lot to me.”

“It did to me, too, Catra, even if I can’t remember it.”

At this, Catra’s varnish finally split, and she turned back to Adora to smile. The warm floating it produced in Adora was more intense than usual – she felt like she’d said something right, and there was a little pride in her for it. This time when Catra spoke, she was facing Adora directly. Their joined hands hung between them.

“Sometimes, when we were younger, I would wonder if we were only friends because we grew up together. I was afraid that if you and I had grown up in a happier place, we’d maybe have been just childhood friends, for a few years at best.”

“That’s not –”

Catra hushed her. “I know. I don’t think that way anymore. We’re stuck with each other, but only because we both really want to be. For whatever weird reason.” Adora watched as her mouth spread into a small smile. The palms of Catra’s hands spread warmth into hers, and Adora felt the space between them pressing into her; she wanted to surge forward and meet Catra’s pleased mouth with her own, but held back as to not interrupt her.

Catra turned, and let go of Adora’s hand to extract something from a pocket she hadn’t noticed was filled. A flash of loss, but it was replaced with anticipation.

“Here. I wanted to give you something,” she said, and her tone was casual, but the way she was looking to the ground slightly off from Adora and fiddling with what she was holding gave Adora the impression of timidity – unusual, on her. At least unusual without an obstinate veiling, an attempt at denial; though even those tendencies had been fading over the years of love and safety.

The sea met the shore and left again, in circles, with a whispering.

Adora took a box from her, and there was a simple gold bracelet inside. “Put it on,” Catra urged her, almost in a whisper, and she did. It lay cool and gleaming against the delicate skin of her wrist – a solid band of light. Adora would have thanked her, but when she looked again at Catra her face was clearly moved with something she hadn’t finished saying. Adora waited, a tension pulling at her stomach.

“it’s just,” Catra began, uncertain, but cut herself off. She began again with more conviction. “I always want to be with you, Adora. You probably know that by now, but if we ever get separated again, I want you to have something there with you. To know that I’m always with you. I know neither of us are very materialistic, but…” and there she trailed off. She caught Adora’s eye, but looked down again after a moment.

The top of Catra’s head somehow revealed her guileless vulnerability even beyond the expression on her face. Adora would have done anything to soothe her. But she was unable to break the webbing of silence over her mouth, and settled for a hand on Catra’s cheek. She didn’t know what Catra was doing or if she was heading somewhere, but something in the way they stood felt like it had a weight.

Catra lifted her head to look at Adora again. “We’re different people, but I think we’re a lot alike, too. And I know we won’t spend every minute of every day together; with missions, or just because our lives can’t always match up. But you’re a part of me, and I want to give you something physical to remember that. If you want to have it.”

“Of course I want to,” Adora said through her daze. And, sensing an opportunity, called Catra an idiot.

“That’s my line!” Catra laughed.

“Well, why would you think that I wouldn’t want that?”

“I mean, I was pretty certain,” Catra said. “But I still wanted to give you a choice.”

“Right,” said Adora, looking down at their hands again. For a moment she looked inside herself, searching for the age-old need to follow a path someone else set for her, but all she felt was her own conclusive desire for this. “I want it, Catra. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Something overwhelmed her suddenly – she broke off, a wave pushing at her throat, and swallowed. Still, she felt determined to see this through, and spoke candidly. “I want you to know – I chose you, I always will. You’re it, for me. With any changes you grow into. It took me a while to recognise it – I’m still not the greatest at knowing what I want for me. But I dreamed of you my whole life. I want you to stay with me, forever.”

A rush of need to return the gesture pushed at her, and she had an idea. Reaching down at her own shirt, clumsily juggling the box, she removed the golden wing-shaped badge she’d been wearing ever since her new life had begun. She’d made a decision, back then. She had still been a centre-less soldier: faultlessly refusing to consider herself or what was important to her in her decision. Times were different. She had grown.

She pinned the badge onto Catra’s collar. When she slid her hands around Catra’s neck and met her gaze again, she saw that Catra was crying – Adora felt her own face drop, and when she wiped a thumb over Catra’s cheek, she felt a tear run down her own.

“This is so disgustingly sappy,” said Catra, though the attempted bluntness of her tone was diluted with the wateriness.

“Yeah. You love it,” Adora said, and rested her forehead against Catra’s. Her hair was soft and firm when Adora slid her hands through it, and her neck was warm. Catra put her arms around Adora’s waist, and pulled her against her front. Adora could feel as Catra’s chest rose and fell with each breath.

“I do,” Catra said. Her eyes were soft. Her whole face was warm and melted. “I love you.”

Adora drew forward as Catra did, and their mouths pressed together. There was barely a space between them, and any that existed bled cold against Adora; she pressed herself almost desperately against Catra when any of them arose. Adora could taste Catra’s mouth where she’d opened it, and there was nothing like her in the world. Catra was all around her, and Adora wanted it, and that’s how it always would be.

* * *

When they returned, the celebrations had subsided some, though they had been planned to last at least a week. The next time Adora and Catra saw Glimmer and Bow, they were milling around the castle grounds, in one of the gardens rather than out in the city. Adora smiled at the sight of them. As soon as Glimmer saw them, she gasped and shot over to them immediately.

“You’re back!” she shouted, grinning, in their faces, and teleported them over to where Bow, and Swift Wind for some reason, were standing.

“Adora! Catra!” Bow exclaimed. “You’re –”

“How could you leave me behind, Adora?” Swift Wind burst in, shoving himself in front of Bow – who wheeled almost over before Glimmer caught him, looking mildly exasperated. “Am I not noble enough of a steed for you? Has my hair not been shiny enough? I got it specially braided before you left! I thought I would be beautiful enough for you.”

“You weren’t, buddy,” Catra told him impertinently, patting his neck. “There’s only one person who can fill that spot in Adora’s life.”

Swift Wind huffed. Melog strolled over to them, circling around Catra, and Adora saw her chance.

“Catra’s right, Swifty. Sorry, but Melog’s the only one I have eyes for.” She reached down to scratch at their mane, and they nuzzled into her. “Look at that fur!”

Catra scoffed, and called Melog a traitor.

“Jokes aside,” Bow said amicably, circling around Swift Wind, “we missed you here, but we’re happy you two had a nice getaway. I mean, I’m assuming it was nice. You both have a beachy glow.”

Adora smiled her assent. Glimmer wordlessly teleported Swift Wind a few metres away before coming back and demanding details, and Catra, through surprised laughter, promised they would give them to her.

They spent the rest of the day with any of their friends that they could find, amidst the brightness of the festival.

* * *

“Hang on,” said Bow at one point, while they were waiting in line for a Ferris wheel. He pulled up Adora’s arm and tapped the badge on Catra’s shirt, a smile sprouting on his face. “These are new.”

“Aww,” said Glimmer, clearly delighted. “That’s so sweet.”

And Mermista begrudgingly echoed the sentiment: “That’s super cute, I guess,” she groaned.

“Okay, I get it, we’re the cutest,” Catra said, disgruntled. Then she adopted a brazen tone and a smirk. Adora knew it was to compensate for the blush spreading helplessly on her face. “Because we’re the best couple on Etheria.”

“Woah, ha, I wouldn’t go that far,” Mermista said, straightening from where she was leaning against a post. Sea Hawk gave her gooey eyes, and with only a slight incline of her head towards him, Mermista clarified: “this isn’t about you.”

“Take it back, Catra,” Perfuma agreed, though she was restraining a smile.

Catra, pleased with the small chaos she’d sewn, refused to. And despite the impending squabble – or was it because of? – Adora had to agree with her. She reached for Catra’s hand, and – like always – they held onto each other like a glass of water, a handrail; the staff of a flag. Their hands locked around the other’s in full circles, newly made.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!! and if you’re interested i have a twitter @clelrio where i talk about she-ra into the void


End file.
